


Miracle on 34th Street

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Gifts, Presents, Time Travel, Weechesters, santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired and revolving around http://gracejo413.tumblr.com/post/37703951799/christmas-is-coming-10-there-werent-any I hope they dont mind me posting this here. Castiel goes back in time to give the Winchesters a real Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miracle on 34th Street

It was another motel in another new town and it was another night in which Dad wasn't there. Sam was asleep, so small in the large bed, and Dean was watching over him as always. He was eight now, still not a big man, but big enough to watch out for his brother and stay up a bit later. 

He shuffled and got out of bed, trying not to wake Sam as he sneaked into his coat and out of the motel room. They had a little tree, nothing fancy, but there was nothing under it. Sam still believed in Santa and in their fathers lies, so the tree would have to have something under it when he woke up. Dean didn't have a lot of money though and it was late, so he headed to the gas station. He might be able to get something there.

He passed a man in a trench coat and hurried past him. He wasn't supposed to speak to strangers and this one weirded him out. The man stopped him though, asked for his dad as if he knew him. His voice was horribly rough and it made Dean wonder what had happened to him to make his voice like that. 

“Dad’s out of town.” Dean shrugged, “Whattaya want?”

“I’m a… friend of your fathers. I just hoped to catch up with him.” the man replied.

“Well, he’s not here. He should be back tomorrow but don't trust that.” 

“Where is he staying?”

Dean didn't want to tell him, that wasn't safe. But the strangeness of this man, it was the feeling of connection. Dean felt like he already knew him. 

“Big Al’s Motel. Room 133.”

The man nodded to him and began to walk away. When Dean blinked the man was gone entirely.

Dean got junk food and little figurines and a lighter with a skull on it. He wrapped them each in newspaper, carefully, before heading back to the motel. As silently as he had left, he entered. Sam was still asleep, a light snore in his nose from a cold. But when Dean went to put his poor excuses for gifts under the tree he found that there was hardly any room for them. There were large boxes and small boxes, each one addressed to either him or to Sam. None of them were for their dad. 

They didn't say who they were from either and Dean was supposed to guess that it was Santa who’d given them but he knew the truth. He knew that it was that trench coated man. Something about the meticulous wrapping and the amount of care in placing and the emotionless handwriting told him everything. 

He only wished he had something to give the man in return the next time he saw him.


End file.
